


and even the princess did not survive

by dinboy (xfrinz)



Series: the imperial tragedy, which is often named as the leading cause of the war between the nations of perine and caledonia [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Matricide, Nobility, POV Second Person, Patricide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:28:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24659119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xfrinz/pseuds/dinboy
Summary: Your mother loves you.Your father loves you.Luckily, nothing lasts forever.
Relationships: Original Female Character & Original Male Character
Series: the imperial tragedy, which is often named as the leading cause of the war between the nations of perine and caledonia [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782907
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	and even the princess did not survive

**Author's Note:**

> 2 part story about my two ocs (serenina de pere and her half-brother grayson) starting with serenina's pov.
> 
> for reference: ser-EN-in-uh

Your mother loves you.

She’s the one who wakes you up in the morning, playing with your hair and kissing you on the cheek, always saying “Good morning, my precious love.”

Before you have the chance to reply to her, she’s already standing next to your vanity, holding your hairbrush. You come forward, sit on the stool, and stare into your eyes reflected in the mirror.

Mother loves to brush your hair. It curls, usually, but Mother always brushes it straight, like hers.

“Who’s my pretty girl?” Mother asks you.

“I am,” your reflection says.

Once you’re pretty, Mother kisses you on the forehead and rubs your shoulders. “My very pretty girl. You look just like Mother.”

“Yes, Mother,” your reflection says.

“Good girl,” Mother whispers. She kisses your forehead one last time before she leaves.

As soon as she’s gone, you tangle your hair again. You like having curly hair, even if it doesn’t make you as pretty as Mother.

Besides. Father loves pretty things.

After your hair is tangled, you get dressed. Mother doesn’t let the maids help you- she says that no one else should get to see how pretty you are, besides her and Father- so you have to do everything yourself. The dress buttons are the hardest part.

After you’re dressed, you can finally leave your room.

Grayson is always standing there, his curly hair fluffing against the stone wall next to your bedroom door.

He knows that Mover loves you.

When he looks down at you, his face is blank, even as he smiles. He always smiles like that, pretending that there’s nothing wrong and that he’s never upset about anything.

“Good morning, dear sister,” he says, like he’s not scared. “How are you on this fine morning?”

“... I am well, elder brother. And yourself?”

“I am also well, dear sister,” Grayson says, still smiling.

He never says anything after that.

You’re not supposed to talk with him too much. Mother says that he’s a dirty, worthless, common-blooded lout.

Sometimes, if you know the maids have the day off, or if Father is giving a speech, you stand next to him anyways.

You have nightmares, sometimes.

Mother doesn’t know about the nightmares. Father might- he saw you have a nightmare, once, but he might not know that you have them very often.

Sometimes, when you wake up from your nightmares, Grayson is there. He’s always smiling the same way he smiles during the day, face blank even as he smiles.

“Bad dream, dear sister?” He asks, as he strokes your cheek.

“Elder brother,” You say. It’s always a surprise when he appears in your room, no matter how often it happens.

“It’s alright, dear sister,” he says. “You’re safe.”

“Do you frequently have nightmares, elder brother?” You ask. You could sit up and speak to him normally, but he keeps his hand on your forehead.

You’re not exactly frightened of your brother. Just of what he might do.

“On occasion,” he says. “I don’t seem to have them as frequently as my dear sister does, however.”

“I’m sorry to bother you with my nightmares, elder brother,” you say. It’s his fault, though. If he didn’t sneak into your room, you wouldn’t be bothering him with nightmares.

“Don’t say that kind of thing, dear sister,” Grayson says. “It’s not a bother at all. That’s what older brothers are for.”

That’s the kindest thing anyone has ever said to you.

“Thank you, elder brother,” you say.

“Of course,” Grayson says. “Do you wish to speak of your nightmare?”

You shudder, unthinkingly. It’s one of the only times you let yourself show your emotions to anyone.

Grayson’s face always goes blank when you shudder. He doesn’t like when you show your emotions, apparently.

“That’s alright, dear sister,” he says. “You’re safe with me.”

He smiles at you after that, and then he leaves.

Grayson is too kind for you.

One day, in the summer, when the maids are busy cleaning the castle and Mother and Father have to give speeches on the battlefield, you are walking in the garden when you find Grayson, sitting with another man.

“Dear sister,” he says, like he’s surprised to see you in the gardens, “what are you doing out?”

“I am just going for a walk, elder brother,” you say. “May I ask who your friend is?”

He’s some kind of nobility- you’ve seen him at one of the balls that Mother and Father have you attend, but he’s not of high enough status for you to have been formally introduced.

“Of course,” Grayson says. “This is my good friend, the son of Count dau Claire, Izyn dau Claire.”

Lord dau Claire bows to you, but doesn’t say anything.

“Lord dau Claire,” you say, with a slight curtsy. “I hope you’ve found our castle satisfactory.”

He nods, looking just a bit uncomfortable with speaking to you.

“Then, I shall be on my way, Lord dau Claire, elder brother.”

The gardens aren’t very nice, but neither Father nor Mother like them very much.

Grayson eats dinner with you that night. Apparently, Lord dau Claire had already gone home by then, so Grayson didn’t have anything else to do.

He wasn’t supposed to eat dinner with you, according to Mother.

He sits next to you at the table anyway, eating dinner with you.

“Dear sister,” he says, just before the maids come to serve dessert, “do you think you could keep Lord dau Claire’s visit a secret from Mother and Father?”

“Of course, elder brother,” you say. You don’t ask why it has to be a secret. That doesn’t matter. What matters is that Grayson trusts you enough to keep a secret from Mother and Father.

“Thank you, dear sister,” Grayson says. “I’m glad that I can trust you.”

Yes, he can trust you. He can always trust you. As long as he trusts you, you can do whatever he wants you to do.

Less than a month later, you wake up without Mother in your room.

You’re confused for a moment, trying to figure out where she might be. 

You hear noises from the hallway.

When you peek out of the doorway, there’s a maid cowering in the corner down the hall from your bedroom.

You don’t know her name. She’s probably one of Mother’s maids.

You approach her carefully. You’ve only just realized that you’re still in your nightgown- hardly appropriate daywear by any stretch of the imagination.

“What’s wrong?” You ask her. There are tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

When she looks at you, she looks terrified. She doesn’t say anything to you, instead just scrambling upright and running past you. Her uniform is torn, her hair tousled, her headband askew- hardly appropriate maidwear by any stretch of the imagination.

You keep walking down the hall, in the opposite direction of where the maid ran.

People are crying. A lot of them.

The hallway leads to the great hall. There’s no one in the halls, though- no guards, no maids, no servants of any kind.

People are crying in the great hall. You still haven’t seen anyone except the terrified maid.

The doors to the great hall are shut.

The doors to the great hall are never shut.

You push on the doors.

The doors are locked.

Someone screams. The people in the great hall start crying louder.

You keep walking.

There are three sets of doors to the great hall, besides the servants’ doors. One of them is probably unlocked.

The second set of doors is also locked. So is the third set.

The people are still crying.

You make your way into the kitchen. Mother doesn’t like for you to go into the kitchen- she thinks that the kitchen is a dirty place, fit only for servants and commoners.

There used to be a nice chef there who would give you sweets, until Mother cut one of his hands off.

The crying sounds louder in the kitchen, but that might just be the echo.

The knives, spoons, and bowls are all abandoned on the kitchen counter, like the cooks were ordered out of the kitchen halfway through making a meal.

The doors to the great hall in the kitchen are unlocked.

You don’t want to step through them. You can hear them crying.

You push the door open to peek through.

At first, all you can see is someone’s back. He’s wearing a long waist coat, like Father wears for military speeches, and he’s holding a sword. His hair is close-cropped and reddish-brown, and he’s easily a head and a half taller than you.

Then you can see past him.

Mother’s maids are tied up, and a number of guards who you’ve seen guarding Father’s door are, as well. There’s a few other guards who are untied and standing around, guarding the tied up maids and guards.

Grayson is standing in the center of the great hall, unsmiling. His sword is unsheathed and dripping with something, but you can’t quite see it right. 

And then Grayson takes a step away.

Mother and Father are staring at you from the floor.

The rest of their bodies are several feet away from where their heads are staring at you.

“Elder brother?”

You’re really not sure when you stepped into the room and past the person standing in front of the kitchen doors.

Grayson looks surprised to see you, as though it’s strange for you to be in the great hall. “Sister, you shouldn’t be here.”

“What’s going on, elder brother?”

One of the guards across the hall is holding the chains to two of Father’s hunting dogs. You had had the chance to play with them, once, throwing a thick rope for them to chase after and return to you, until Mother found out and had had one of the dogs beheaded.

The living dogs, the ones across the hall, are straining against their collars, desperate to approach Mother’s and Father’s corpses.

“It’s nothing you need to see,” Grayson says. His eyes shift to look at the person behind you, who had been guarding the servants’ entrance. “Izyn, get her back to her room.”

The people are still crying.

Lord dau Claire tries to guide you out of the room with one hand on your back, the way a gentleman should guide a lady, but your feet stay rooted to the floor. “Elder brother, what happened to Mother and Father?”

“Izyn, _go.”_

One of Mother’s maids- one who had seen you changing your clothes and had escaped with her life- sobs.

“What’s on your sword, elder brother?” Lord dau Claire has both hands on your shoulders, now, but he’s still not using any more force than Father does at balls. You stay still. “Elder brother, what have you done?”

“Izyn!”

Finally, Lord dau Claire lifts you completely, carrying you like a child. You can still see over his shoulders into the great hall, where Grayson stands, listless, for just a moment before his face hardens and the door swings shut.

The people are still crying.

Lord dau Claire doesn’t seem to know where to take you, after that. He at least exits the kitchen, so that you’re farther away from the sobbing, but stops moving in the hallway. He sets you down on your feet, and checks to make sure you are steady, but he does nothing else. He does not even speak.

Are you allowed to leave?

You take a step away from Lord dau Claire, and he follows close behind. When you try and step back towards the kitchens, he blocks you with his arm.

You walk back to your bedroom. Lord dau Claire follows close behind you, only stopping once you’ve stepped into your bedroom and shut the door behind you.

You don’t know what to do.

Mother and Father are dead. Grayson was involved, somehow- otherwise he wouldn’t have been standing over their dead bodies, his sword drawn and dripping, insisting that you didn’t need to know about it.

Did Grayson kill Mother and Father? Surely not- surely Grayson is a good person, not a wicked man.

And yet, Lord dau Claire is still guarding your bedroom door to prevent you from egress.

You sit down at your vanity, staring at your mirror.

Mother would probably still be brushing your hair right now, if it were a normal day.

You pick up your hairbrush and stare yourself down.

“What a pretty girl,” your reflection says. “You look just like Mother.”

“Yes,” you agree. You keep brushing your hair.

You’re not sure how long it takes for someone to come to your bedroom. Long enough that your hair ended up being completely straightened, at least.

It’s Grayson who comes in, his sword no longer hanging at his side. He’s smiling again, the way he smiles without his eyes.

“Dear sister, how are you feeling?” He asks. You can just barely see him in the reflection on your vanity.

“I am well, elder brother. And yourself?” Your reflection asks.

Grayson takes a deep breath. “Dear sister, please, be honest with me. I know you’re not well, not after what you just saw.”

“Please, elder brother. I am perfectly fine.” You really do look like Mother in the mirror, your hair so perfectly straight. Grayson looks the way he had in the great hall, his face completely blank and his sword hanging at his waist.

“Dear sister,” Grayson says. He takes a step towards you, and you only just keep yourself from flinching.

Grayson doesn’t seem to like that.

Mother was right. The nobility should never show their emotions.

“Dear sister. Please. I won’t ever hurt you.”

“Yes, elder brother,” you say.

“Dear sister,” Grayson says. He takes several more steps towards you, until he’s standing just beside you. He kneels down next to you. “Please, look at me.”

You wrench your gaze away from your reflection and look down at Grayson. His eyes are empty, but he’s still smiling. “Sister, everything is alright. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Yes, elder brother,” you say, again. You can’t see your reflection anymore.

“Sister,” Grayson says. His smile has fallen off his face, and he looks sad, now. “ _Serenina._ Please.”

Grayson isn’t meant to call you by your name. Mother had always said so. She had always thought that your name was too good for Grayson’s vile tongue.

“Yes, elder brother?”

Grayson doesn’t seem to be enjoying talking with you. In fact, he looks rather upset. “Don’t worry, Serenina. I will always protect you.”

“Yes, elder brother.”

Grayson sighs, and re-affixes his smile. “You should go back to bed, Serenina. It’s still early.”

“Yes, elder brother.”

Grayson turns away and leaves. You turn and face the mirror once more.

In the reflection, you can hear- distantly- Grayson talking to Lord dau Claire.

Maybe Grayson is right. You are terribly tired.


End file.
